


Disperse the Gloomy Clouds of Night

by SaphiralovesTolkien



Series: 25 Days Till Christmas Fanfiction Countdown [19]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Christmas Tree, Gen, Hope, Hopeful Ending, but everyone is in Valinor, the Valar know how to throw a party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17076149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaphiralovesTolkien/pseuds/SaphiralovesTolkien
Summary: “There is much gossip among the Maia and the Elves over who crafted such a beautiful star. Some say it even rivals Lady Varda’s and I heard a whisper that Feanor is extremely jealous.” Thuringwethil glanced over her cup of wine to gauge Mairon’s reaction, but he merely smiled and took a sip from his cup.





	Disperse the Gloomy Clouds of Night

**Author's Note:**

> I did it! Today's fic posted today!  
> Day 19: Christmas Party  
> Betaed by Grammarly.  
> I don't own anything obvious.  
> OCs lightly sprinkled in.  
> This is an alternate universe were Sauron got redeemed and is now living in Valinor. I know that some people who are mentioned shouldn't be in Valinor but it's an AU so I get to do what I want. Inspired by AzureSkye23's work so go check out their stuff.  
> Enjoy!

>  O come, Thou day spring, come and cheer  
> Our spirits by Thine advent here  
> Disperse the gloomy clouds of night  
> And death's dark shadows put to flight

During the times when elves and dwarves still walked the earth side by side with Ents and all manner of strange creatures men only celebrated the holiday known as Christmas. The more magical and longer-lasting peoples of Middle Earth celebrated a similar holiday, but it didn’t have the same spectacular as Christmas. As the ages flowed into each other and the elves left Middle Earth and the dwarves went deep underground and the Ents disappeared into the forests of the world Christmas became a more significant holiday with the absence of the other traditions.

Fast-forward to the present times and Christmas was a huge holiday both on the mainland and in the mystical land of Valinor, home to the elves and the Valar and the Maiar and the few dwarves and men who were lucky enough to be allowed admittance. Once the elves had caught hold of the 21st-century traditions, the decorating of Valinor practically became a national holiday. The Valar were happy to indulge the Maiar and the elves in the festivities, but they had learned a few years into it to assign roles to certain people before letting the elves and Maiar fight each other for the positions of head decorators. They had especially learned the need to evenly balance out the decorators between both peoples as one year there was a massive snowball fight that took out the 70ft tree. It had taken Tulkas, Oromë, and the Lords Manwë and Aulë to finally break up the fight.

This year the Valar had purposefully met a month before the decorations would start to discuss who the lead decorators would be. They tended to gravitate toward the same people, Eönwë, and the other head Maiar, the Peredhel triplets, Lord Gil-galad, King Turgon, the fellowship from the third age, and unfortunately Feanor and his sons. This year, however, the Valar decided to change things up and appoint a new person this year, someone who would rock Valhalla whether for better or worse. 

* * *

 

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can Mai, don’t sell yourself short.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Deep breath, in and out, come on Mai, follow along.”

“You do it Wethil, please.”

Thuringwethil gave her friend a hard stare, “Mairon I’ve seen you face down the dark lord himself, you can do this. But also luckily for you, I saw something like this happening, so I’m letting you open your Christmas present early. It took a lot of negotiations and some light threatening from a new friend of mine, but I was able to convince the Valar to bring him back. Plus, I don’t think he will wait any longer.”

Before Mai could ask what his friend was going on about, she disappeared back outside. Mairon blinked at the abrupt departure of his friend then hurried out after her, “Wethil. Wethil! What are you doing? Where are you go-oh.”

Mairon stared at the black wall in front of him; it took him a few seconds to realize it was scales he was looking at. It took him a few more seconds to look up into a pair of very familiar gold eyes, “Ancalagon.” He breathed then he shrieked and tried to tackle the dragon, “Ancalagon!”

The black dragon snorted and lowered his head so he could nudge the maia in his form of greeting. Mairon smiled as he clung to the dragon’s neck, “I can’t believe they allowed you to come back.” He looked at Thuringwethil, “You must have friends in high places, this is...absolutely extraordinary! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Mairon let go of Ancalagon to tackle Wethil in a hug. The vampire smiled and hugged her friend tightly, “Eru knows you deserve only the best.”

She pulled back to appraise him, “Now, do you think you can go in there and dominate the room, be the leader I know you are?”

Mairon glanced at Ancalagon then back at Wethil, “Yes, I can. I’ll make this the best-decorated tree ever.”

“And show up all those who ever called you weak,” added Wethil with a dangerous smirk.

* * *

 

When the time of the party came around, Valinor had been transformed into a Christmas paradise. Lights were strung around every tree and light and house making the land bright. Each Vala’s place of stay had been decorated in a theme from the mainland, a winter wonderland, the Nightmare Before Christmas, Elf, the Polar Express, and any other sort of Christmas movie. Although the Valar’s places were a spectacle, it was the tree in the middle that captured everyone’s attention.

The tree was over 70ft tall and was decorated from head to foot in ornaments and lights. Each ornament was an elegantly decorated scene from history depicting warmth and family throughout all peoples; no dark scenes would cloud anyone’s minds tonight. The tree topper that perched in the branches above was an elegant star crafted by one the Maiar though no one knew who.

“There is much gossip among the Maia and the Elves over who crafted such a beautiful star. Some say it even rivals Lady Varda’s and I heard a whisper that Feanor is extremely jealous.” Thuringwethil glanced over her cup of wine to gauge Mairon’s reaction, but he merely smiled and took a sip from his cup. Thurinwethil smirked, and the two sat in companionable silence admiring the tree and the crowd of beautifully dressed people milling about below.

“Wethil,” said Mairon after some time, “How did you manage to convince the Valar to bring Ancalagon back? It can’t have just been Queen Evenstar’s threats.”

“Have you met her? She can be quite persuading when she wants to be,” replied Wethil with a half-serious look.

“I’m serious Wethil,” said Mairon turning to face her, “Queen Evenstar may be formidable, but there had to be other people who persuaded the Valar to agree, and I can’t imagine anyone agreeing.”

“Do you think so little of yourself Mai? You have more supporters than you know.”

“Who?” The maia looked at the vampire pleadingly, “Please, I want to know.”

Thuringwethil considered her wine for a moment before nodding to a group of Maia that stood near the base of the tree talking, “There are your friends in high places, _very_ high places.”

Mairon thought that was an understatement, the group talking and laughing near the tree was comprised of some of the most influential Maiar in Valinor. Eönwë, the herald of Manwë, Istlamire, the former general of the Valinorian armies turned head strategist, Leith, Irmo’s head maia, and, “Olorin,” murmured Mairon.

“You weren’t the only one who was surprised believe me,” said Thuringwethil, “imagine how I looked when I found out they were the ones behind my return as well.”

Mairon looked at her in shock, “Why would my former friends and my brother want to help me, I’ve betrayed them all and even hurt a few of them.”

“A majority of that wasn’t your fault Mai; you know that, I know that, the Valar know that, _they_ know that.”

Mairon shook his head not entirely put together enough even to start the thought train toward what that could mean, “Who was the Vala who supported it? One of the Valar had to have already been convinced before the meeting.”

Thuringwethil smiled and gave him a fond yet exasperated look, “Who do you think Mai? The one Vala who has always been beside you since the beginning, the one who brought forth the notion that you might actually be just as much a prisoner as anyone else was, the one who found the proof no matter how painful it was to defend you, the Vala who you are currently staying with.”

Mairon looked down and swirled his wine suddenly not in the mood to drink it, “He has done so much for me already, why does he continue? Why does he treat me like I’m an innocent that got caught up in the war unwillingly, who had no choice in the matter, who fought as hard as they could against the darkness?”

“Mai,” began Thurgwethil but the vampire got cut off.

“Because I’m not innocent, I’ve hurt people I loved and cared about, I’ve killed dozens of people and commanded armies who wiped out hundreds of men and elves! I don’t deserve any of this!”

By the time he was done, the maia was standing, wine forgotten on the grass, and he was staring at his friend imploringly for an answer. Ancalagon snorted, tossing his head in agitation and swishing his tail in fear of what could come next. Mairon’s response didn’t come from the vampire or the dragon but from someone behind him, “ Because everyone deserves a second chance. Because no matter what Melkor told you or what you have heard from others, you are as much a casualty of this war as everyone else. And because I love you.”

The young Maia nearly collapsed into Námo’s arms tears sliding down his face. The Vala gently lowered both of them to the ground and rearranged Mairon so that he was curled up in the Vala’s lap with his head on Námo’s chest. The Vala gently ran his hand through the Maia’s fiery red hair, “Mairon, you are loved more than you realize, you have friends, and you have a family who very much worries over you. You have the chance to heal.”

Mairon glanced at Thuringwethil who gave him a watery smile, at Ancalagon who blinked and nosed him gently, at the group of Maiar near the tree who had stopped talking to provide him with small smiles, and finally up at the Vala who held him. His eyes were filled with such compassion and love that Mairon nearly started crying again. The Vala gave him a gentle smile and brushed a tear off the young Maia’s cheek, “More loved than you know.”

“I think I’m starting to realize that,” murmured Mairon with the smallest of smiles.

While this Christmas may be remembered by the majority of the population of Valinor as being one of these most beautiful, a handful of Maiar, a vampire, a dragon, and a Vala would remember it as the beginning of hope.


End file.
